


The Sympathy of Ghosts

by miss_grey



Series: Conversations with Ghosts [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Haunting, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6806152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But what if you were the ghost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sympathy of Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in pursuit of a new kind of ghost story. One that has no rules.

 

 

1.

 

_The walls are not the right color._

_The walls are not the right color._

_THE WALLS ARE NOT THE RIGHT COLOR!!!_

 

2.

 

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.  Shut it.  Seven steps to the chest.  Reach in and grab…. Wait.  Grab what?  There’s nothing there.  Wait.

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.   Shut it….

 

 

 

3.

 

Sometimes she falls asleep with the tv on.  It’s loud, and bright, and disturbing.  She tosses and turns on the couch on those nights and can never seem to find any rest.

I turn it off for her.

She always sighs in her sleep when the noise dies, but in the morning she won’t mention it.

 

 

 

4.

 

The house has weird shadows.  Sometimes Dani tries to talk to them, but only because she doesn’t realize they’re not real.  They’re only shadows.  They’re not even really here.

 

 

 

5.

Sometimes I feel her in the walls.  Her sadness, her desperation permeates the air and chokes me.  It’s suffocating.  I look for her when it gets like that.  Sometimes I can’t find her—we are lost from each other, existing on different wavelengths that intersect only sporadically.

I can hear her crying.  It haunts me.

 

 

 

6.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  I CAN’T GET OUT I CAN’T LEAVE I’M TRAPPED HERE I’M DEAD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T WHY CAN’T I LEAVE I JUST WANT TO LEAVE LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET ME OUT I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE LET ME OUT I’M TRAPPED HERE AND…. IS THAT BLOOD?!  THERE’S BLOOD I’M BLEEDING AND I’M…. OH MY GOD I’M DEAD I’M DEAD I’M DEAD.  I’M NEVER GOING TO LEAVE AM I? I’M DEAD!!!!!!! I’M DEAD I’M TRAPPED I’M DEAD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

7.

She talks in her sleep, sometimes.  I do, too.  Neither of us can ever find rest.

 

 

 

8.

Sometimes I die all over again.

 

 

 

9.

She never puts things back where they should be.  I move them.  She moves them back.  I try to be nice about it.  Sometimes, while she’s sitting at the kitchen table, paying her bills, or curled up on the couch, reading, I try to broach the subject, kindly.  I’ll say “Please don’t move my things, Dani.  Or if you do, put them back where they belong.  You know how much it bothers me when I can’t find them.”

She usually ignores me, and continues what she’s doing.

I swear, sometimes, I feel like I’m talking to the walls.

 

 

10.

Harrison is a Golden Retriever that is just barely two years old.  He’s large and floppy, and likes to play fetch.  He’s still hyper like a puppy, but mature enough not to trip over his own feet anymore.  He’s a good guard dog, too.  That’s why Dani got him, after all.  He makes her feel safer.  And who could blame her? 

Harrison fucking loves me.

 

 

 

11.

“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!  SHUT THE FUCK UP!  STOP SCREAMING! I SAID STOP SCREAMING! OH MY GOD I CAN’T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK I’M GOING CRAZY WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! I CAN’T EVEN LEAVE AND YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY AND I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I’M GONNA—!”

 

 

 

12.

There’s a garden in the front yard.  It’s been there forever.  There were roses when I moved in.  I pruned them back and watered them, but they were mostly fine on their own.  They’d been there for such a long time, they didn’t need anybody anymore. 

I added a few things.  Asters and marigolds.  White and bright golden orange.  I used them to mark the boundaries of the flower beds.

She planted Forget-me-nots and morning glories. 

She never forgets to water it, but if she did, I think the garden would be okay.

 

 

 

13.

“Run!  Run!  Get out of the house!  It’s not safe!”  I reach for the phone, dial.  Wait.

No one ever picks up.  The house is quiet.

 

 

 

14.

Sometimes I die all over again.

 

 

 

15.

I like 4 am the best.  The whole world is sleeping, except me.  No one in their right mind would be up yet, and even most night-owls are asleep.  The world is soft at 4 am.  Perfect.  Silent and still.  I like to sit out on the porch and watch the deep blue-black of night slowly turn to a lighter hue.  I always feel so alive at 4 am.  I guess waiting for the dawn will do that to you.

 

 

 

16.

“Can you hear me?” Dani stands in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, her arms crossed uncomfortably over her chest.  “Are you here?”

“I’m here.”  I say, walking just a bit closer.  She doesn’t look like she really wants to have this conversation.

“Are you here?”

“I’m here.”  I say again, taking another step closer.  I could almost reach out and touch her, now.

Dani’s lip trembles and she swallows, hard.  “Are you… are you here?”

I take the final step, brush the tips of my fingers softly, lovingly, against the pale skin of her cheek.  “I’m here,” I whisper.

She shivers.

“Are you here?”

 

 

17.

 

The truth is, we haunt each other.  We see each other in half-glimpses, out of the corner of our eyes.  Sometimes I’m there, and sometimes she’s not.  Sometimes she’s there, and sometimes _I’m_ not.  Sometimes we’re both there together, and the moment is perfect.  Sometimes the house is just so goddamn empty.

 

 

 

18.

Sometimes I die all over again.

 

 

 

19.

“RUN! RUN!  It’s not safe!  Hurry, quick, I’ll get the…!”

 

 

 

20.

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.  Shut it.  Seven steps to the chest.  Reach in and grab…. Wait.  Grab what?  There’s nothing there.  Wait.

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.   Shut it….

Wait….

 

 

21.

 

Oh God, where am I?  This isn’t right.  This isn’t right.  Nothing’s right.  Where am I?  What happened to me?  I don’t… I don’t remember.  I was asleep, and now…. Where am I?  The walls aren’t right.  These aren’t my things.  Oh God.  The walls are the wrong color.  Who did this?  Who did this to my house?  Am I… am I still dreaming?  Where am I?

Nothing looks right.

 

 

22.

 

“Dani.”  Her lashes flutter when she sleeps.  She looks so young, so beautiful.  I don’t even mind so much that she leaves her things in all the wrong places.  “Dani.”

She shivers, and sits up.  The room is dark.  She looks around, pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders.  “Must have been a dream,” she mumbles.

What if all of this is just a dream? 

Just a really long, bad dream that I can’t seem to wake up from?

 

 

23.

“Have you seen my trunk, Dani?  I left it right here, but now I can’t seem to find it.  I don’t remember what I did with it, or if… if someone took it.  But I need it.  There’s something important that I need to get from it.  Have you seen it?  I can’t find it.  If only I could find it, I know I’d feel better.  Everything would make sense.  I know it would.  But I can’t… I can’t remember where I put it.”

 

 

24.

Sometimes I die all over again.

 

 

25.

 

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.  Shut it.  Seven steps to the chest.  Reach in and grab…. Wait.  Grab what?  There’s nothing there.  Wait.

Fifteen steps to the left.  Turn.  Go through the door.   Shut it….

Wait….

 


End file.
